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My Alpha Made Me Rescue His Mistress Instead Novel Cover

My Alpha Made Me Rescue His Mistress Instead

Betrayed by her mate, a rejected werewolf is forced into a suicide mission to save the mistress who stole her place. Instead of protecting their bond, the Alpha prioritizes his new lover, thrusting his true mate into a lethal conflict. Amidst the cruelty of her pack, she must endure the agony of their severed connection. This is a harrowing tale of survival and heartbreak in a world where power and instinct override the laws of the heart.
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Chapter 4

The pack's whispers followed me as I walked away from the dock, their accusations and doubts clinging to me like a second skin. I'd barely made it back to the recovery station when I noticed something was wrong.

"Ty," I called, my voice low and urgent. "Did you secure the remains?"

He nodded, confusion crossing his features. "Of course. I locked them in the preservation unit myself."

I moved quickly to the storage area, my instincts screaming that something wasn't right. The lock on the preservation unit was intact, but when I opened it, my blood ran cold.

"Ty," I whispered, "count the fragments."

He stepped forward, his face paling as he examined the contents. "Three... four... no, this isn't right. There should be at least twelve pieces."

I reached in with gloved hands, carefully examining what remained. "Someone took the larger fragments—the ones with the most distinctive markings."

"Who would do this?" Ty's voice cracked with outrage. "These remains deserve respect."

I didn't answer, already knowing exactly who was responsible. I'd seen the calculating look in Adrianna's eyes at the dock, the way she'd hovered near our equipment while Daniel was distracted.

"Check the security footage," I said, my voice tight with controlled anger.

---

Two hours later, I sat in front of my computer, watching Adrianna's livestream with growing horror. She'd set up an elaborate display—black velvet draped behind her, candles casting eerie shadows across her face.

"Welcome to my special Halloween edition," she announced to her thousands of followers, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Today, I'm debuting my new gothic jewelry line inspired by... death itself."

She reached off-camera and returned with something clutched in her hand. When she opened her fingers, I felt sick.

"These beautiful pendants are crafted from authentic bone fragments," she said, holding up what could only be described as a necklace with a small, polished section of human bone. "Each one is unique—just like you."

The camera zoomed in as she displayed more pieces, each one more grotesque than the last. Some were carved into skull shapes, others polished to a gleaming shine.

"These aren't just any bones," she continued, her eyes glittering with malice. "They come from a very special source—a family tragedy that will never be forgotten."

My hands trembled as I reached for my phone. This was beyond disrespect—this was desecration.

"Look at this one," Adrianna said, lifting a pendant that made my heart stop. It was a small section of what looked like a finger bone, carved with the same distinctive pattern I'd seen on Daniel's mother's dress.

"This particular piece has an amazing story behind it," she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Some say it belonged to someone who drowned... someone whose son couldn't save her because he was too busy with other things."

The comments section exploded with excitement. Adrianna's followers ate it up, begging for prices and ordering information.

"Each piece is one-of-a-kind and priced accordingly," she said. "But for my special fans, I'm offering a limited-time discount."

I scrolled through the comments, my nausea building as I saw Daniel's name appear.

"Amazing work, babe!" he'd commented, his profile picture showing his Alpha status prominently displayed. "So proud of your creativity and success!"

He'd followed it with several heart emojis and a comment: "Can't wait to see the whole collection in person tonight!"

The pack's honor for the dead was sacred—a cornerstone of our beliefs. Yet here was our Alpha, publicly praising the desecration of his own mother's remains.

My phone rang, startling me from my horrified trance. Unknown number.

"Hello?" I answered cautiously.

"Olivia?" My mother's voice came through clearly, her French accent unmistakable. "I've been trying to reach you for hours!"

"Mom?" Relief flooded through me so intensely my knees nearly buckled. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm okay," she said, confusion evident in her tone. "I'm in Paris, at the café by Notre Dame like I told you I would be. Why wouldn't I be okay?"

I sank into a chair, my entire body shaking with emotion. "Someone suggested... I thought maybe..."

"Oh, Olivia," her voice softened with understanding. "What's happening there? Are you safe?"

I closed my eyes, the image of Adrianna's grotesque display still burned into my retinas. "No, Mom. I'm not safe. But knowing you're okay... that helps."

We talked for nearly an hour, her voice a lifeline in the chaos that had become my life. When we finally hung up, I sat motionless, staring at the wall.

The call had confirmed what I'd suspected but dreaded—the remains we'd recovered were definitely Daniel's mother. And somewhere in the pack, Adrianna still had the stolen fragments, likely planning more horrific displays.

My phone buzzed with a text from Ty: "Emergency meeting called by Daniel. All pack members required to attend. Now."

I stood slowly, a cold resolve settling over me like armor. Whatever Adrianna and Daniel had planned next, I would face it head-on. For the sake of the dead—and the living.

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